


Hermione

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Discovering Magic, Matilda - Freeform, little Hermione
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-02
Updated: 2014-08-02
Packaged: 2018-02-11 11:35:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2066640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt from Tumblr found on Instagram:</p><p>Can we just take a moment to imagine cute little six-year-old Hermione reading Matilda?<br/>And peering into this book about a smart, booking girl who could move things with her mind,<br/>And then can you imagine her concentrating very hard on the books on the bookshelf and slowly, slowly, getting them to move.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hermione

Hermione Granger, even at six years old, is a remarkable girl. She is studious and kind, compassionate and sweet, but she is not extraordinary. Nothing exceptional ever happens to her, other than the occasional unusual happening. Like when she didn’t want her mother to buy her the yellow shirt, so it unraveled in her hands. Or when her father tried to teach her how to roller-skate and she fell, but didn’t scrape up her hands. But otherwise her parents are dentists, so even at her young age she has braces, her neighbors are all very boring. There are no other children on her block, and the kids at school are rather dull in her eyes as well. So she reads.

 

She reads everything she can get her hands on. Magazines, Television Guides, the daily post, the nutrition labels on food items, the warning labels on the cleaning supplies, the manual to the car, everything. Her parents began to figure out that she loved to read, so at Christmas and her birthday and whenever they saw a book in a window that they thought she would like, they would get her books. Her small shelf against her pink wall rapidly overflowed, and now towers of books are the only unruly things in her room.

 

They sit on her desk, her nightstand, her floor; tottering piles of books half-read with bookmarks, and some so well-read that the corners are dog-eared and the pages soft to the touch. Recently, Hermione has been interested in the author Roald Dahl, and has read many of his books such as _Charlie and the Chocolate Factory_ , _James and the Giant Peach_ , and the _Fantastic Mister Fox_.

 

Currently, Hermione sits at the head of her bed, her pink flowered pillow propped against the headboard and her white-socked feet stretched out in front of her. Her purple short-sleeved t-shirt has a picture of an ice-cream cone on it, and her jeans are light blue denim. Her bushy brown hair is shoulder-length and falls in her face as she bends over the book in her hands.

 

 _Matilda_ , a book about a smart, bookish girl whose parents neglect her. She walks to the public library in her village everyday for a few hours just to read. She reads books by Charles Dickens and M. Night Shayamalan. Hermione tried to read _A Christmas Carol_ by Mr. Dickens, but it was just a little bit too difficult. But Matilda has a secret. A super special power that she discovers in anger. She can move things with her mind.

 

 _She sat on the end of the bed and started again. It was easy now to summon up the power behind her eyes. It was like pushing a trigger in the brain. “_ Lift! _” she whispered. “_ Lift! Lift! _”_

_At first the cigar started to roll away. But then, with Matilda concentrating fiercely, one end of it slowly lifted up about an inch off the tabletop._

 

Hermione glances up from _Matilda_ to speculate about the probability of such an occurrence happening. Even at six years old Hermione is extremely practical and knows what makes logical sense and what doesn’t. And she can’t quite figure out why Matilda would have these powers.

 

_For the next hour, Matilda kept practicing, and in the end she had managed, by the sheer power of her eyes, to lift the whole cigar clear off the table about six inches into the air and hold it there for about a minute._

 

Again, Hermione looks up, glancing around her room. What if she could do it? Even though it doesn’t make sense, what if Hermione could make something happen? Make a cigar fly or a book levitate. Some very strange things happen to Hermione, so she decides to give it a go.

 

She looks around the room, her eyes lighting on her copy of _The Hobbit_. It is a rather thin book, not too heavy, and the words inside full of adventure, one of her favorite books. Her eyes dart to her open window, and her door which is ajar, worried that someone will peep in while she is concentrating so hard on the book and cause her embarrassment. Satisfied, she steels herself, setting _Matilda_ aside with a bookmark between the pages, crossing her legs and planting her elbows on her knees, propping her head in her hands.

 

And she stares at the book. Willing it to lift up into the air. Trying to prove that she is something special. Something remarkable. Something extraordinary. She wants to be different.

 

“ _Lift, lift, lift, lift, lift,_ ” Hermione murmurs as she concentrates solely on the novel. The paper pages and cardboard cover being the only thing her mind is focused on, the rest of the room fading away until it is only Hermione and the book, “ _Lift, lift, lift._ ” Her small hands have balled into fists and her skin is flushed red. Her brow has become sweaty. She wants to be something special, different, remarkable, memorable, new, crazy, wonderful, amazing, spectacular, fantastic, _magical_.

 

“ _Lift!”_ She cries out with all her might, her high-pitched voice warbling with tears. Nothing is happening. She isn’t any of those things. None of them.

 

The salty droplets spill over, making tear tracks down her cheeks until she decides to try one more time. She sits up, letting her feet dangle over the edge of the bed, her hands under her thighs as she glares at the book. The other books too. It’s just her and her books. She wants _all_ of them to move.

 

And one trembles. She stops, sitting back, warily eyeing her novels as they sit motionlessly about her room. Leaning forward, she begins her immersion once more.

 

And it shudders again. She continues, not stopping, watching with awe as slowly, very slowly, the books shake and shudder, rumble and rattle, tremble and tumble off of her bookshelf onto the ground. She keeps watching them as they tardily hover, then levitate, and then begin to move around her room, in a whirling dervish centered on her.

 

Hermione Granger can do magic, just like Matilda.


End file.
